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Is This One of Those Dates?


trollthumper

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Asli let out a long breath and sat back in her chair, trying to let her stress and anger fade. There was something about Mark, maybe just because he had stayed out of the fight or maybe just because he was cute. In any case, his words seemed a good place to let the argument lay. She still didn't want to talk to Nina about anything else, though, and she was supposed to be here to meet Joe, so...

"So you know I sing," she said, swirling around her water glass like it contained a rare vintage. "How about you? Mark said that you had a union job."

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Joe was happy the conversation was drifting away from hostile waters - and hey, it sounded like Nina's gambit may have paid off. "Yeah," he said. "Armden Foundry, over in Greendale. Been working the line since I was 19. Position's shifted over the years - first I oversaw the smelting, but then I got moved sideways --"

'Cause, even if they're willing to write it off as "a lucky near miss," people still get kinda unnerved when you get splashed with molten iron and don't end up extra crispy. 

"--now I mainly work in shaping the steel. Support beams, struts, all the stuff that goes into making sure nothing falls down. And yeah, we've got a shop together. But we keep things right, make sure everyone pulls their weight, and that no gets ground down or pushed around. Simple as that. 'Course, it seems like that's too much for a lot of people nowadays, but they can go screw." He paused. "Doing some other stuff too, though. Been at night school for a little over a year now. Going for a history degree. Not sure where it'll lead, but... I figure it helps to learn from where we've gone." 

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Asli thought back to her second attempt at college. Working eight or ten days a week at temp jobs and then four hours of classes and homework at night. Not to mention two or three hours a night writing music to keep herself sane. Not to mention reading the strange journals that were in the closet when she moved in... Joe probably -- probably -- wasn't practicing magic on the side, but if he was working and getting his degree at the same time, he was a heck of a worker. "You sound like something da la Rocha would sing about," she said. "A union boss who studies history." She smiled, to show that she didn't mean to make fun of him. "Have you always been interested in history? Reading John Clancy and his ghostwriters?"

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Mark gave Nina a "later for you" look that earned him only a look of wide-eyed innocence from his girlfriend. He set his hand on her thigh as they sat quietly and sipped their wine, easily able to feel the warmth of her body through the thin material of her dress. "You're awfully militarist for someone who works for the UN," he teased her lightly. 

"I don't work for the UN, darling, I merely take advantage of their domestic partnership program and generous sub-contracting policies." She stretched slightly, a movement that showed off how low-cut the dress was in the front. They seemed to be reasonably content to pay attention to each other while Asli and Joe got to know each other - the best way to enjoy a double-date. 

"I dunno, I bet those Syrian kids are still talking about you..." 

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Joe laughed. "Eh, I'm not a boss," he said. "I'm just a guy who pays dues like any other. I may talk up the benefits of a tight shop, but that doesn't mean I'm leading the show. I mean, maybe down the line, but for now, I'm fine with doing what I'm doing." He wasn't entirely sure who "John Clancy" was, or if his bevy of ghost writers were all they were chocked up to be. "I paid attention in History class all throughout school, if that's what you mean. But it was kind of a casual thing back then. In the last few years, though, I started realizing how important history is. How many of the ideals we think of as modern can be found back in those days, if you know where to look. I mean, it's better that they're widespread now, but it helps to see how the things people devised in the past can lead to what we need today." 

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Joe thought on that for a few seconds, trying to find the right way to approach it. There was a lot to do with it, but he didn't exactly wanted to dive into it all at once -- 

 

Ah, what the hell.

 

"I wanna understand," he said, "and I want others to understand. I guess that's why I went for the whole history thing, but... it goes a bit further back than that." Here it came, making explicit what had once been coded. "When I was in high school, I got into the skinhead scene. And I still am. Not the racist kind, I gotta make clear - the scene's got a long history, the boneheads are just one part of it, and the guys I run with object to those assholes showing up. Often violently. But I came to it slowly - first it was a matter of actually getting into the punk scene, then it was meeting skins who didn't drink Hitler's bath water, then it was actually finding out about the working class origins of the scene. And when I did, it was part of realizing that we're all down in this together, and it's these barriers - racism, sexism, homophobia, all that stuff - that keep us from getting in the fight together. A lot of times, those barriers are exploited by people on top - it's not us that's screwing you, it's the Mexicans, the women, the gays, etc. But those barriers wouldn't mean crap if people didn't buy into them. Sometimes it's a matter of not being exposed to the other side. Sometimes it's a matter of only having so many hours in the day to understand what's going on, hours you don't have, so you accept what's fed to you instead. And when you do, you accept this thin, constructed idea of what someone is. And you just accept that you're okay where you are; everyone else is the asshole." He shook his head. "I mean, I can get to understand why someone's doing what they're doing and still think they're an asshole. But I want to understand. I don't want it to be a simple matter of them being garbage. I want to understand why it's happening, who they are, and what we can do." 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Asli listened closely to what Joe had to say. "Okay," she said, "but then what?"

 

She leaned back and spread her arms. "I mean, understanding stuff is pretty cool. A lot of people don't bother to understand stuff, don't bother to dig into something and try to get at what's really happening. They just accept what they're told, and are happy with it. But even if you know well enough to spot when you're looking at the next Huey Long, what are you going to do about it?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Well," Joe said, "understanding's usually the first step towards actually doing something. I'm all for swinging your fist, but it's a good idea to know where to hit if you wanna make the most impact." He realized that now would probably be a good time to start steering away from the martial metaphors, as that might be a problem. "If I find somebody or something worth fighting for, then... well, saying 'I fight for it' sounds too simple, but, yeah. If I can put my words behind it, I'm gonna advocate for it, shout for it, do what I can. If it's a person worth supporting, then I'll do what they need - not like I'm gonna jump in there to be his or her best friend, but I'll contribute where I can. Ain't gonna try to be too boisterous about it - I know I'm a guy who can throw his weight, and I wanna make sure I'm not gonna trample something underfoot - but I am gonna throw in as best I can." 

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By now their food arrived, and they were between them well into their meals (and wine). Nina and Mark had been speaking in low, flirtatious whispers while Miras and Joe got to know each other, feeding each other pasta like a couple from a Hallmark advertisement and sharing the occasional quick kiss. They'd both had a decent amount of wine, but neither seemed actually inebriated. When the waiter took her plate, Nina took the opportunity to ask of Asli, "So, what mosque do you go to? As conservative as the clerics are here, you must have an interesting time." 

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"Right, but are you going to do that while you're working in a shop?" Asli stopped and held up her hands in a mollifying gesture. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. But if you figure out what you want your life to be about, why spend your life not doing that thing?"

 

She leaned back as the server returned, watched the plates of food be passed around the table. Wafts of steam hung over the table, carrying delicious smells up to their faces. Asli swallowed to keep from salivating; she cooked for herself plenty, but she was always more concerned with cost than taste. This, though, was baked with fatty cheese and butter and salt and a thousand others things that were bad for her and she wanted to pick it up and devour it whole.

 

She had enough self control to tuck in her napkin, however, and start cutting the noodles and chicken into more manageable bites. "There's conservatives and moderates and liberals," she said. "You just have to know where to look. I usually go to a mosque in Riverside, the Hawwa temple. We pray, and then we talk about the news. The cleric organizes regular trips to soup kitchens and the like." She speared a bit of chicken and popped it in her mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing. "It's nice. Sometimes they're a bit too hippy-dippy, though, like to condemn things and talk about protests and not do anything at the last minute."

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"Because not everyone gets that choice." Joe paused, picking at his dish for a bit as he tried to gather his next thoughts. "I know you're talking about you-me and not you-hypothetical, and... I'm not holding myself back as some sort of grand gesture for the working class. But even if you know what you want to do, and you have the skills to do it... that may not necessarily mean you have the means to do it, or the entry. You keep trying, you keep swinging away... but you've still gotta keep your feet planted somewhere. That's why I guess I really keep my head in all this labor stuff. 'Cause some people don't get the option to move on from where they are, and someone needs to make sure they can at least live comfortably."

 

Cannonade sat back at Asli and Nina traded words on Islam. It wasn't that he was cold to the faith, but he realized he didn't know as much about it as he could. And he didn't want Asli to feel like she was obliged to give a lecture to theology, and while he had a number of questions - namely, "How do you deal with all the assholes who think they've got a right to shout down your throat?" - they didn't exactly make good dinner material. 

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  • 5 weeks later...

Nina shot Mark a look at that, earning an exaggerated sigh from the handsome UN agent. "Baby, we got the house! What's that look for?" he said indulgently. "Nina just got me to buy us a house," he said, putting his hand lightly over Nina's, "we had a thing for a while about whether it was better to stay in our apartment or actually own property." 

 

"It's a very nice house by the sea," said Nina with a smile. "A good place for us to live for the next few years. Having a home is an important thing. For anyone." 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Asli raised an eyebrow at Mark's casual remark about buying a house, especially if it was just 'for a few years.' She was still paying down student loans. The idea of buying a house and having it just be temporary was mind-blowing. Then again, she was about a decade behind where she should be, money and career-wise; but it just made her more aware of the gap between herself and the other people around the table.

 

Her eyes wandered over to catch Joe's. Could she buy a house with him? Maybe it was silly, but Asli didn't like the idea of dating someone just because they were fun to be around. If she didn't think she could marry a man, then she might as well dump him and try to find someone else. Joe was good-looking and it seemed like he didn't have his head up his ass, but was that enough? What kind of family did he want? Did he expect that she'd be some meek and mild housewife who would wear her chador and be quiet? If he thought that, he was in for a surprise.

 

"Something by the sea, then?" Asli raised a bit of chicken on her fork, gesturing widely with it. "I would've expected something in Manhattan or Switzerland. I mean, you work for the UN, right?"

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"We have an apartment in Switzerland too," said Mark with a little shrug, not sounding terribly impressed at his own real estate holdings . "We go there most of the time when I'm not in Freedom or working. But Nina'd been talking to me for a while about getting a new place, and we decided now was the time." 

 

"Because I told him I wasn't going to live in his bachelor pad, not when his friends live in mansions. I love this man," said Nina with affection as she patted Mark's hand, "but it took me years to get him to use his powers for his own benefit. The man can make gold out of the air!" 

 

"It's true, I can," said Mark with a little shrug. "But you can't eat gold, or drop it on bad guys, and you can't give it away in humanitarian situations, not without wrecking the economy, so I don't use it that much. But I made enough that, with stuff from my mom, we could sell it and get a place. Joe's place is pretty nice," Mark offered. "He's got a good pad." 

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Well. Joe would not necessarily say it was a "good" pad. It was in his own little corner of Southside, one which was mostly avoided by the elements of street crime he usually spent most nights punching in the face and had yet to fall under the scrutiny of the hungry hounds of gentrification. And it was kinda small, mainly because he really hadn't felt the need for anything larger. But... he did do a good job of keeping it neat and tidy, had found some good pieces at yard sales and thrift stores, and had managed to make it look like something vaguely not like the place of a single straight steel worker/superhero. 

 

"Yeah, I've managed to keep it together pretty well," he said. "Which, you know what it's like in this town. We do a good job of keeping the weird stuff controlled, but... well, there's a reason some of the ads on Craigslist describe risk of collateral damage." 

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